Her Pride
by AuroreMartell
Summary: If Joanna had not died. A tragic, short oneshot.


A/N: Because the best part of Tywin Lannister died with Joanna.

* * *

Joanna Lannister is proud of having her family. It more than a mother's pride in her children, or the contented feeling a wife gets when gazing upon her husband. No, Joanna is proud that she has this family to call hers. It is a fierce, vicious love for her babies and her husband, one that only a lioness can possess.

Most mothers would not be proud of having a dwarf son, she muses, as little Tyrion squirms in her lap. But Joanna adores her second son, no matter how disfigured, because he is a lion just as she is. "Shh, sweetling," she murmurs into his pale blond hair as her son's hands scrabble across the pages of the history book she's reading to him. Thank you, Tywin, Joanna thinks, for not letting my sweet boy be born half dragon.

"'Here is Balerion, the great Black Dread! He'll swoop from the skies and burn the hair off your head!'" Cersei shouts out from her perch on her mother's leg. She's heard this story many times, Joanna knows, because it's Tyrion's favorite and Cersei doesn't go anywhere without her brothers. Joanna pats her daughter's golden hair and admires the striking beauty her daughter possesses, even at seven years of age. This one will be the ruin of many a man, thinks Joanna. She will be princess of Dorne, and all will bow before my daughter.

"Yes, my dear. Well read! 'Here is Meraxes, the one of rubies and fire.'" Tyrion peeps with glee as Joanna turns the page and offers up a picture of the fearsome red dragon to her wide-eyed son. "'His mouth will swallow horses and turn cities into pyres.'"

"Next one, next one!" screeches Jaime, bouncing on the arm of Joanna's chair. He's already a little lion to Joanna, constantly racing about the house and pretending to be a knight or a wizard. She knows he isn't the smartest boy yet, but he will grow to be strong and do amazing things with his strength. Joanna can see Jaime when he is older, slaying his enemies, making the smallfolk call out his name in adoration.

"'Here is Vhaegal, the smallest but most cruel,'" Joanna obliges, laughing.

"'He can cook a man inside armor like you would a mule!'" finishes Cersei with joy, never caring that the words scarcely rhyme.

"Aaaaa!" Tyrion seconds, clapping his hands together. Joanna's never seen a happier baby than her little Tyrion, and kisses him on impulse. He is beautiful to her, beautiful because he makes her happy, and that he is not half dragon as she worried.

They are her lion cubs, golden and naïve and beautiful, and she is their fierce mother. Joanna closes her eyes briefly as she nestles her pride of cats close to her heart, thinking on the loves and the marriages and the triumphs her children will experience, and how she will watch them every step of the way.

She thinks on the sweet Martell siblings, how Jaime and Cersei's babies with Elia and Oberyn will come out dusky-skinned and gold, suns and lions, and her heart bursts with happiness.

She thinks on how Tyrion will grow to be smart and feared for his mind, and she feels as though she may cry with excited anticipation. Mothers do not have favorites, especially when the mother has children like Jaime and Cersei, but Tyrion is special to her.

The sound of her lord husband's boots lifts Joanna's eyes from her children. "My love," she greets him, brushing Jaime's beautiful hair aside. "We are reading the tales of Aegon's Conquest. Would you like to join us?"

Tywin Lannister hesitates, his stony eyes flickering to the door. Joanna knows he must leave now for some meeting, but he sends her a warm glance and lifts Jaime up to make room for himself. That is all her husband gives her, warm looks and occasionally hand squeezes, but his gestures of affection mean more to Joanna than any kiss.

"'Here we find Harrenhal, a fortress of stone,'" reads her husband from the book as Jaime snuggles up against his father. "'It will never fall until dragons are grown.'"

Tyrion falls asleep against Tywin continues in his booming voice, continues the story of Harrenhal's fall and the three Targaryen siblings taking the throne. Jaime watches his father in rapt admiration, and Cersei idly plays with Tyrion's soft blonde fuzz. It is a beautiful picture for Joanna to experience, and tears well in her eyes.

"Joanna?" whispers her lord husband after the book is finished and Jaime and Cersei have run off to play. "Are you not feeling well?"

She grasps his hand, and his eyes soften. "I love you," Joanna replies. "I do, so much I fear I shall explode with my adoration of you."

Tywin tilts his head. "And where would these beloved words come from?" he questions, not unkindly.

Joanna watches Jaime and Cersei tumble past the open doorway, and Tyrion sleeping peacefully on her lap. "I'm so happy, Tywin. I'm just so proud of us."

"Us?"

"Us. Our marriage. Our children. You. Me. I'm proud of everything." She adjusts Tyrion so Joanna can lean her head onto Tywin's shoulder. "I don't want this feeling to end, my love."

He clenches her hand tight in his. "Why would you think it would not?"

Joanna bites the corner of her lip. She will not admit that the king frightens her, or has made countless passes at her, or that simply she does not feel safe as long as Tywin has power to envy. She merely holds Tyrion tighter to her bosom and looks away.

"Joanna." Tywin lowers himself so he is crouching in front of her. "If anyone would dare to hurt you, to threaten you- you must know that I will find them, and I will kill them for you."

It is the sweetest thing he could say, despite the cruelty of the words. I have been smart in my marrying another lion, thinks Joanna. "I love you," she whispers fiercely to her husband.

He nods, pressing his lips to her hand. "And I you, Joanna."

We are a pride, Joanna realizes, a pride of golden lions. We are a pride because we love each other, and we are strong, and we will stay together and love each other for eternity.

This is my family.


End file.
